Felicia sighed and rubbed at her stomach. “Well I’m excited for this movie. I need to be off my feet more.”
“Maybe if someone wasn’t obsessed with walking in the garden all week.”
“I usually go with Zahir, and when he’s away, it makes me feel like he’s still here if I’m in the space where he’d normally be, you know? I need to feel his presence. It helps me sleep at night.”
Her sister chuckled and touched Felicia’s stomach. “I think other things are proof of his presence. Seriously, what’s going on with you two? Things seem different this last week, better.”
“We’re pretty solid all the time.”
“Yeah, but in a buddies way or in a polite friends way or even co-parents putting on the best face possible for the baby way. Now any time I mention him, you have that goofy grin on your face. When I Skyped Jaheer, he said that Zahir was whistling all over their hotel. I think something so not ‘just friends’ happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“Please, you totally had sex, erm, again,” her sister said, blushing a little as she looked down at Felicia’s belly.
“I…no!” she objected, but she’d never been a good liar, and her little sister could see through her as if Felicia were a window pane. “Okay, maybe.”
Elena squealed so loudly that Felicia had to cover her ears. “You did. OMG, I suspected but I wasn’t sure. This is amazing. That means you really are going to get together like a fairy tale!”
“We’re not a fairy tale, and you’re fifteen—I don’t want to give you ideas.”
“Well you are the mother of his child. Obviously, it’s serious. I’m not slutty, duh.”
“But it’s also that we’re trying to figure out our relationship. I fell too fast for him, and then there’s the baby and what’s best for Jardania. His mother hates me. I’m just the means to the end in her mind. I’m sure she’s plotting to slide the princess of Jordan into my place as soon as she can.”
“Who cares about Sheikha Adira; she’s like this old, dried up bitch!”
“You shouldn’t say that.”
“Well, Jaheer says it.”
Felicia clucked her tongue. “He shouldn’t be hard on his mother. I can see why she hates me. I’m not the type of woman ever meant to be a sheikha or the mother of the next queen or king of a country.”
“Some people wish they were as awesome as us,” Elena corrected. “Look, I get it. Everyone makes West Virginia jokes because they’re so easy. It doesn’t matter. We are awesome. You got a scholarship to one of the best universities in the world, and you always took care of me, even when Mom couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for such a big job, and now that you and Zahir are finally seeing eye to eye…or other places…”
She slapped Elena’s shoulder. “Cut it out! I mean, yes, that part is doing great, but there’s no guarantee of a happily ever after. No one has even been able to find Akmul, and he scares me most of all.”
“I should.”
She stood up as fast as she could, even with her pregnant belly, and pulled her sister closer to her when she saw Akmul Ahmed and a dozen men in balaclavas and dark clothes, armed with machine guns, rushing into the room.
“You can’t be here. The guards—”
“Have been subdued by my forces. So much of the guard had to accompany Jaheer and Zahir to Europe. I knew they’d leave the palace just vulnerable enough.” He grinned, a cruel rictus that highlighted his crooked teeth and scraggly beard. Then he aimed his Glock squarely at Elena’s forehead. “Now you come with me, infidel bitch, or I’ll have to kill your sister. You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”
She grabbed her stomach tighter. If she went with Akmul, there was no telling what he’d do to her and the baby, but she couldn’t let harm come to her sister, either. Going with him at least bought her some time.
I promised to protect Elena, no matter what.
“I’ll go.”
“No!” Elena shouted, trying to break free of Felicia’s grip. “You can’t go! He’ll kill you—you have to know that.”
“I do, but there’s nothing else I can do.” She eyed Akmul and struggled to stay calm, even as beads of sweat pooled at her temples. “Can you give me a minute. At least lower your gun. I want to say goodbye to my sister.”
“You can’t.” Elena cursed then, a truly impressive blue streak that only made Akmul laugh as if this was the funniest joke in the world. Her sister turned to the interloper and glared. “I hate you, asshole. You think you matter? When Zahir gets back, he’s going to end you. You’ll never be the leader of Jardania, and you know it, too. If you were even close, you wouldn’t have to steal my sister like the coward you are.”
“That’s cute, child. It’s only because your spunk amuses me that I let you live. Don’t test my patience.” Akmul stroked his beard as he spoke, and Felicia’s stomach turned in knots. “If my patience does cease, well, you’ll make for excellent target practice.”
“Fuck you!”
“Elena, please don’t,” Felicia said, hugging her sister tight. She whispered into Elena’s ear. “Shh, you need to wait here. You need to tell Zahir and Jaheer everything they need to know. I’ll be okay.”
“No!”
She hugged her sister tighter and buried her nose in Elena’s hair. The scent of vanilla reminded her of home, of the shampoo their mother liked and Elena now favored. Of safety. She had to hold onto this, if she was going to survive.
“I love you. Don’t go,” her sister begged, digging her fingers into her shoulders.
Reluctantly, Felicia pulled away from her sister. “I have to, for all of us.”
With that, she made her way to Akmul. He nodded at his guards. A few of them strode to Elena to hold her back. She struggled in their grip and cursed with a fierce litany all over again. The second phalanx of guards slapped handcuffs on Felicia’s wrists.
Akmul reached under her chin and stroked it. This close to him, Felicia could smell his breath; it reeked of tobacco and far too many cups of tea. “That’s more like it. Now, let’s get out of here. I cannot wait for my cousin to realize his mistake, to pay your ransom.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, I think that will do nicely,” Zahir said as he looked over the papers from McMillan Traders, Inc. They were working to subsume part of the brokerage for their own financial endeavors in London and the broader UK. The week of negotiations had been agony for him. All he wanted was to be back in Jardania, to be able to make love to the woman he cared about and wait for his baby to be born. “Mr. Smythe, please thank your employers for me. I believe that my lawyers can finish negotiating everything with you from here. If you’ll pardon me, I do need to be back home as soon as possible. My wife is expecting.”
The barrister for the other side nodded. “I’ve heard, and congratulations on everything, Sheikh Ahmed.”
They would have continued exchanging the finishing pleasantries, much to Zahir’s frustration, if his brother hadn’t rushed into the room. His face was flushed red and he was panting heavily. It seemed to Zahir as if his brother had run up several floors from the office he’d been negotiating in.
He got to his feet in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Felicia. Akmul took her!”
His heart flew to his throat, even as his mind reeled. It couldn’t be. There was no way that he’d just heard what he had, yet Jaheer stood before him with his own eyes wide with terror.
“How do you know?” He nodded politely once more to Mr. Smythe and gathered his things, hurrying with his brother down the hall and toward roof access. He knew how Jaheer thought. His brother would have already arranged for a helicopter to take them directly to Heathrow and from there to Jardania. “Tell me everything.”
“Our guard wasn’t strong enough with most of our best here in London. He burst into the media room and held both Elena and Felicia at gunpoint. If Felicia didn’t go with them, they’d have shot Elena.”
Zahir’s heart constricted in his chest. It was a Sophie’s choice, an unbearable decision. He understood her choice—she loved her sister, as did they all. And at least this way there was a chance that Akmul might not hurt her and the baby. After all, Akmul had always loved his games.
“How did you find out about it? Did the other guards call?”
“Some have reported in, yes, but Elena called me directly once she was set free. Then Farhid did as well.”
“And what could such an incompetent fool want?” Zahir demanded, furious beyond reckoning at the man who had let this tragedy happen on his watch. Farhid might have been second in command of his palace guard now, but that would change as soon as he and Jaheer set down in Jardania.
“He patched me through to a call from Akmul. He is willing to trade Felicia and the baby for a price.”
“Anything. Name it.”
His brother regarded him with dark, fearful eyes. “Jardania. He wants the kingdom. You abdicate everything or you lose everything that really matters.”
***
Felicia didn’t like the way Akmul stared at her as they rode in the car away from the capital of Jardania and toward the back roads and heavy sands surrounding them. She had no idea where Akmul lived and what his quarters were like. As part of the royal line, no matter how distantly as a cousin, she assumed he liked luxury, if not hygiene. He seemed like the type who would have a dungeon. A lock and key life for her and the baby.
Dear God, he won’t kill me right away will he?
Akmul grinned at her, and she had to choke back her revulsion at that heavy tobacco smell. Then he startled her by reaching down and stroking her left thigh through the gossamer fabric of her kaftan. She shuddered and tried to pull away but he gripped her leg with an iron grip.
“Let go of me!”
His smirk widened. “I’m not so horrible, infidel.”
“My name is Felicia.”
“Your name matters little to me,” he said. “The throne is all I care about. I can get it by forcing Zahir to abdicate.”
“He’d never do that.”
“He might for the right price, and what could he want more than his child and his sheikha?”
“I won’t let him! Jardania will never be safe with you as the sheikh. You’d ruin all the progress they’ve made. The baby and I aren’t worth the peace and prosperity of a whole nation.”
Akmul laughed. “You’re probably right, but that fool Zahir has always been a hopeless romantic, and I know he won’t see it that way. But it doesn’t even have to come to that. If he has no heir, then the throne passes to me as the next oldest.”
She gripped her belly as tightly as she could, the fear percolating through her. “I won’t get rid of him or her. I’d rather die first.”
“But what if the baby were mine? We can’t go back in time, but if you married me instead, promised me the heir in your womb as surely as if it were my own? Then we would really have something, wouldn’t we?”
“I’d never do anything like that. I’d never marry you. Never.” Felicia had no idea what motivated her, what finally made her snap from rational into angry and ferocious. But she’d never let that monster raise her child. Never. Gathering the mucus into her throat, she arched back her neck and spit a loogie at him, one that landed flat against his face. “You’ll have to do something else because the baby and I are Zahir’s, and we always will be.”
“Keep thinking that way, bitch,” he cursed, and then he slugged her hard in the face.
Her vision swam and pain lanced through her body. Felicia tried to stay awake—passing out would put her completely at Akmul’s mercy—but she swooned, passing out in the back of the heavily armored limo, senseless to anything he might do to her.
***
When she woke again, Felicia found herself in a bedroom. It wasn’t quite as opulent as the palace, but it was still extravagant, with silk curtains and heavy antique furniture in every corner. Her face still throbbed from where he’d punched her, and if she’d been able to sit up fully, she might not have made it very far because of the vertigo threatening to overcome her. When she started to sit up, however, her arms snapped back. To her horror, she found that her wrists were handcuffed to the bed posts. At least her legs were free.
Her heart skipped several beats as an icy sweat trickled down her back.
“What’s going on?” she demanded, just in case someone could hear her.
Akmul strode in through the doorway, and she had to push the bile back in her throat when she noticed that he was wearing only a pair of boxers. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she could barely hear anything over the sound.
“You know what’s going on. I can make you love me. I can make you be the queen of my coming kingdom. I will be the king, and we can rule Jardania together…the heir included.”
“You can’t make me do anything!” she shouted, pulling against her bonds. “I won’t let you do it.” He laughed and stroked his beard. She wanted to scream, but Felicia refused to give the rat that pleasure. “You know that Zahir won’t stand for it. He’ll save me.”
“If I defile you, will he even want you? The brat and you can be mine and the spirit of the contract and old laws honored that way.”
“If you touch me,” she spat. “He’ll have your head.”
“We’ll have to see about that.”
Then he was on her.
Chapter Fifteen
Now, now, now.
That was the only thing that he could think, the only thing that truly mattered as the helicopter landed outside of his cousin’s estate. He and Jaheer weren’t alone. They’d had every spare army serviceman they could call out from every rank in Jardania sent directly to Akmul’s lair. This violation would not stand, and he was going to end it once and for all. He steadied himself as the chopper started leveling in for landing. Beside him, Jaheer struggled with his bullet proof vest. Zahir finished fastening his own and then redid his brother’s. His younger sibling had always been adjacent to skirmishes. It didn’t fall to the spare (as Jaheer called himself) to go into battle. Now, however, they both wanted to be there to save Felicia. After all, Jaheer loved his sister-in-law and niece- or nephew-to-be as dearly as Zahir did.
Jaheer clapped his brother’s shoulder. “You don’t have to go in, you know. We have most of the Jardanian army arriving on the ground. The heir and the spare, right? I don’t want you to get hurt. I love you, brother.”
Zahir shook his head. “We’re both the heir, and this woman is my heart, my life. I’m going to save them.”
Jaheer hesitated. “What if this is what Akmul’s counting on? What if he wants you to walk into a trap so he can kill you?”
“And you want to be the one to take that bullet. I’m your big brother, and I can no more sacrifice you than Felicia could have done with Elena. We’re in this together.” He reached for his nine millimeter and thanked his own military experience for preparing him for a situation like this. He needed every advantage he might get. “Besides, I don’t intend to lose.”
The chopper set down, and he and his brother grabbed the riot gear, including helmets, that their officers wore when things went south with civilian protests. He was desperate to save his family, but Zahir was no fool. He was not going to make it easy for his cousin or any of his cousin’s minions to get off a fatal shot. The pilot barked to them in clipped words and they both braced for the door to open. When it did, Akmul’s men surged out in a hail of gunfire and a cacophony of noise.
Zahir nodded to his brother. “Let’s do this.”
Without another word, both broke into a loping run. Keeping their heads down and trusting their team to take care of the guards around the estate, the pair rushed the door. Zahir was breathing hard as he wove through the gunfire and up the stairs. A guard grabbed Jaheer from behind and tried to strangle him. But his brother moved like a snake, and he elbowed the other man in the gut. The guard went down like a bag of wet cement. Zahir spotted ano
ther guard at the top of the stairs, this one taking aim at brothers. Zahir steadied his gun and fired, his bullet spinning the man to the floor, where he stayed.
At the top of the stairs, Zahir nodded to his brother. “I’ll take the East Wing, and you take the South. If you don’t find anything, we meet back here in twenty. You hear me? Stay safe and don’t be a hero.”
Jaheer chuckled and looked down at the guard’s body. “I’ll leave that for you, Zahir. Nice shooting brother. See you on the other side.” With that, his brother pulled his own gun close to his body and rushed down the hall.
Zahir hurried his own way, straining his ears for any sound, any telltale sign of either Akmul or Felicia. Then he heard it—an angry, frightened shout that shot like a jolt of electricity to his heart. It came from a room at the end of the hallway, and he broke into a run. He barreled through the door with his gun cocked.
Zahir was glad he had. The sight before him was enough to make him seethe: his cousin in nothing more than his underwear about to climb over the foot of the bed and touch his sheikha, his artiste, the light of his life. Instinct took over—the quick pull of his forefinger and a loud bang resounding through the room. His cousin slumped hard on the foot of the bed, the blood pouring from his body and staining the floor.
His beloved screamed, and he hurried forward, growling when he found Felicia cuffed to the bed. Reaching down, he stroked her cheek. “What did that animal do to you?”
“I…nothing. He was just about to.”
He shook his head and ran his fingers over her swollen lip and then her blackened right eye. “No, he hurt you.”
She gulped and glanced down at her feet, which lay mere inches from Akmul’s corpse. “He didn’t do the worst he could have. I promise it’s okay. Everything’s fine now that you’re here. You…you came for us.”
He kissed her fiercely and then stroked her soft cheeks again. “And I always will.”
***
Four Months Later
“I’m going to kill you!” she screamed, breathing hard between clenched teeth. “You don’t know the day or the hour, Zahir, but I’m going to murder you.” She screamed again and clenched his hand as the contractions bore down on her. “I’m never having sex again, never. You have had your fill!”
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